


The Dark Before the Dawn

by NorthernSkyline



Series: The Paths We Tread [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Crimson Flower worldbuilding, During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Epistolary, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Sort Of, Too many cameos to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23053681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernSkyline/pseuds/NorthernSkyline
Summary: Garreg Mach falls, but it's a Pyrrhic victory. With war now raging throughout Fódlan, the survivors pick up the pieces as best they can.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault & Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: The Paths We Tread [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656769
Comments: 30
Kudos: 119





	1. Great Tree Moon, 1181

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [The Truth, In A Heartbeat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22959040), but you don't have to have read that to understand this. I'd appreciate it if you did though!
> 
> Most of this will be epistolary, but this first chapter isn't.
> 
> CW: Panic attacks, Edelgard's really awful past

Wind whistles through the shattered husk of the monastery, between crumbling towers that stretch up like fingers, a stony hand that grasps at the iron-gray sky. Nestled in its palm, Edlegard searches. The sun has long since set by now, the rest of the army have long since retired to the barracks, and the only light comes from the moon holding a solemn vigil over the scene. Still, Edelgard searches.

She’s here.

She has to be here.

It was cruel how well things had been going, really. How perfectly fate and circumstance had aligned to give her a fleeting sense of invulnerability. It had made the twist of the knife infinitely worse.

As she digs a gauntleted hand into the rubble and wrenches up a flagstone, Edelgard can’t help but think back to just a few short weeks before, when the Archbishop had given the order for her execution in the Holy Tomb. She’d known that it was coming—after all, she had been planning for the moment what felt like her whole life—but she had always planned on walking this path with just Hubert by her side. When the Professor had fixed her with her inscrutable gaze, she had resigned herself to fighting against the one person she had allowed within arms length of her true self in years, the one person she dared show even the smallest crack in the armour around her heart. Then, the impossible happened. Byleth had stood beside her, sword pointed at Rhea herself.

Her eyes begin to sting, and she snarls into the darkness, hurling the stone in her hands to the side. It clatters into the growing pile by the side of the ruined structure, the sound echoing into the night air. Beneath it lie no answers, only the snake-tongued promise in her ear that maybe, just maybe, what she needs is under the next stone. Or the next one. Or the next one.

“Edie…”

She crouches down and returns to the rubble. She has to be here.

“Edie, please.”

Another stone crashes into the pile. A thousand more lie at her feet.

“She’s here, Dorothea.” She growls. Her voice is hoarse, choked with disuse and the dust of broken masonry. “She has to be here.”

She goes to heft another rock from the floor, before a soft hand on her shoulder makes her pause. Gently, Dorothea places a hand under her arm and helps her up. Edelgard doesn’t resist. If it were anyone else, she suspects that she might have. Dorothea says nothing, but leads her away gently towards the encampment at the foot of the broken remains of their old academy. As she walks, she feels her anger drain away from her as a wave of exhaustion crashes into her.

It’s been two days since Garreg Mach fell. Two days since the Imperial army broke through the defensive line, forcing the Knights of Seiros into retreat. Two days since Rhea, in a final act of selfish fury, showed her true face and brought the whole monastery crashing down around them.

It’s been two days since the Professor went missing.

Edelgard isn’t even sure if she’s slept or eaten since then. She has spent every moment she can scouring the ruins for any sign she can find, no matter how insignificant. Now, however, as she’s being led by the arm back towards her tent in the makeshift encampment, she has to face the truth. She has found nothing. The Professor has vanished without a trace, as cleanly as if she’s been surgically removed from history, leaving nothing more than the gnawing pain in the Emperor’s chest.

They are back at Edelgard’s quarters before she fully recognises they’ve left the monastery grounds. Dorothea settles her down on a chair, then busies herself with tidying up the cramped tent, straightening books and making her bed like she used to back when they were both still students. As skilled an actress as Dorothea is, the performance of normality is half-hearted. Eventually, the older girl lets out a small sigh and finishes rearranging the stationary on Edelgard’s writing desk.

“We can start looking again first thing tomorrow.”

“No.” Edelgard hates the waver in her voice. Despises the weakness it betrays. “No. It’s alright, Dorothea. We leave for Enbarr in the morning.”

Dorothea gives her a small nod, a sad smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I’ll let Randolph and Ladislava know. Goodnight, Edie.” Hesitantly, she approaches the Emperor and kisses her on the cheek, before turning and exiting the tent, leaving Edelgard with her thoughts.

As tired as she is, Edelgard knows that sleep will not find her easily. Her mind is too busy, too chaotic. She shakes her head and stands up, dragging her chair over to the writing desk and pulling her journal out of the stack of books upon it. It’s a familiar routine, the focus of writing always helps when her mind—as it often does, when it feels like being cruel to her—refuses to settle down. She dips her quill into a nearby ink pot and begins.

_Day 2 of the Great Tree Moon, 1181_

The quill hovers halfway towards the page, shaking. Two days of delayed realisation is rapidly catching up with her, filling her lungs with lightning. She wants to wrench the knot from her stomach and wring it out onto the page, wants to somehow let the howl in her heart flow through her fingers, but nothing comes. It feels too large, too raw, too much. She blinks. A few droplets of water stain the bottom of the page. Trying to parse the totality of the last few days makes her feel small, helpless. She swallows, her mind flailing wildly for a foothold in a situation that’s rapidly escaping her. The familiar image of chains, rats and dead siblings violently inserts itself into her mind’s eye. The stain at the bottom of the page grows larger, the gap between it and the primly scribed date at the top mocking her. No matter what she fills the space with, it will never be enough. Still, she tries.

_She’s gone._


	2. Lone Moon, 1181

_Day 31 of the Lone Moon, 1181_

_Petra delivered her report today. No progress. She assures me that she’ll get results soon, but I don’t know how much longer I can justify sending the Princess of Brigid herself on a fool’s errand. It’s been a year, right to the day. A year to the day, and even the best tracker in the Empire hasn’t found a trace of her. There are a hundred better places for Petra to be, a hundred better uses for her talents, and I have her chasing a ghost._

_No. Not a ghost. She’s alive. I know it._

_I know that Petra thinks the same too, I can see it in her eyes. I don’t think she would stop looking even if I ordered her to. I’m lucky to have her by my side. After all the blood spilled between Brigid and Adrestia, after everything she’s been through, having her lend me her strength now is more than I could have ever asked for._

_She returns to the search again tomorrow, and I’m assigning Leonie to go with her. Felix isn’t happy about losing his sparring partner, although he’s never happy about anything. Especially not these days, at least. I need to find him an assignment before he puts any more of the army in the infirmary as part of his ‘training regime’. Still, I must admit that he has a point. There’s hardly any of the old Strike Force left in Enbarr now, and the palace grows quieter by the day._

_Tonight is the last night of the year, so we’re holding a small gathering here in the grounds. I can’t help but think of Felix, Ingrid and Annette, how they’d normally spend this night with their families in the Kingdom and how instead they’re going to see in 1182 as traitors in their homeland. How they believe in forging a better world so strongly they were willing to leave everything behind to help make it happen. They had the choice to turn back, and instead they stayed. They’ve sacrificed so much already, I don’t know if I can ever thank them enough._

_A whole year of war, and yet all of us remain standing. Remain fighting. We may have been born in Adrestia, Brigid, Leicester, Faerghus… none of that matters. We all stand side by side as equals now. They all give me the strength I need to keep going forward, to keep carving this path, no matter how bloody it becomes._

_I only wish that she were here to walk it with me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are the italics too much? I wanted to emphasise that this is a journal entry, but if it makes it a bit hard to read please let me know!
> 
> This won't all be Edelgard's journal from here on in, I've got letters from other characters lined up to add a bit of variety.


	3. Wyvern Moon, 1182

_ Day 15 of the Wyvern Moon, 1182 _

_ Hubert, _

_ The sweep of the Western front is almost complete. I do not have time to write up the full details, but suffice to say I think you will be quite pleased! I am sure that Ashe will provide you with his report, but the raiders from the Kingdom have been repelled from the Brionac Plateau. Your intelligence was correct, they were hoping to steal in by the border with Arundel territory, so I was able to enact your pincer movement strategy masterfully! Even if I do question your methods, I find it hard to fault your results. I highly doubt we will see those scoundrels again any time soon, now that Ashe has established a base there. _

_ My daring exploits in battle aside, the remainder of the campaign has been unremarkable. We encountered no resistance all the way from Arundel to Garreg Mach. On that note, Marianne is doing a wonderful job of restoring the monastery! Truly, recommending her for the role is a rare example of you turning your talents to something that does not result in a knife in someone’s back. Seeing her work with a smile on her face is a rare sight, and a most welcome one. Perhaps I underestimated your capacity for empathy, or indeed your understanding of the very concept. I would pass on your regards to her, but I feel she is quite terrified of you and would probably take them as some form of malediction. _

_ I shall hopefully be returning within two weeks. Please refrain from poisoning anyone before then. _

_ Yours sincerely, _

_ General Ferdinand von Aegir, Adrestian Army _

-

_ Day 29 of the Wyvern Moon, 1182 _

_ Ferdinand, _

_ You’re late. I trust you have a good reason to keep Her Majesty waiting? We are awaiting your full report, please return as soon as you are able. _

_ Of course the plan worked, it was one of mine. Nevertheless, the fact that you didn’t foul it up means that I should at least give you a small modicum of credit. _

_ You are, as ever, a sentimental fool. Margrave Edmund was anxious to show his support for the Empire, and Marianne knows the monastery like no-one else. I was merely allocating resources in the most efficient manner possible. That said, hearing that work is progressing nicely is gratifying. I may send Bernadetta to Garreg Mach to assist with the reconstruction, she is a skilled artisan after all. She is also frequently fleeing from me in terror, so perhaps having them both somewhere I am not is beneficial. _

_ You are not here to have drinks with me, so I no longer have any targets. Perhaps I shall prepare something for your return, for old times’ sake. _

_ Regards, _

_ Hubert von Vestra _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a little while, my mental health has been in the toilet recently with everything going on and it made finding their voices a little tricky. Also, Ignatz showed up and refused to leave until I wrote something about him. You can read the piece he commisoned [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23203342), if you're interested (it isn't related to this series at all).
> 
> The next chapter of this is almost ready, but I might try and stay a little further ahead just to get a buffer ready. I'm on lockdown at the minute, so I've certainly got the time!


	4. Ethereal Moon, 1182

_ Day 31 of the Ethereal Moon, 1182 _

_ I had a dream last night. Nothing new, I know, but something about this felt… different. I was standing (or perhaps floating, the details escape me) in an empty void, when I heard a muffled voice. I moved to find the source, but no matter how hard I tried to locate it, it only got fainter. Perhaps this is just my subconscious venting its frustration at the lack of progress on the Eastern front. A goal that constantly slips away from me is a depressingly familiar situation right now. _

_ We’re still awaiting word from Lysithea about allies in the Alliance. Claude is spinning plates to keep the lords from any action other than bickering with each other, and they’ve curled up on themselves like a hedgehog, a wall of spines stretching across the Airmid River. I suspect that the difficulty in getting messages over the border because of the whole debacle isn’t an accident. Claude always was too tricky for his own good. I’d ask her to come back to Enbarr, but Lysithea is far too stubborn to give up without a fight. I’ll have to get Hubert to find a better means of communication once he gets back from, well, whatever it is that Hubert does when he leaves for weeks on end. I try not to think about it too much, he certainly has little interest in telling me. _

_ He’s been gone since the Red Wolf Moon. I’d say I wouldn’t be surprised if they fished Claude’s body out of the Airmid, except I doubt even Hubert could find a poison that would do the trick. I think part of the reason Hubert despises him so much is that he knows Claude’s much more proficient in the alchemical arts than he is, but I’ve kept that particular thought to myself. Perhaps I’ll let it slip to Ferdinand, I could use the entertainment. _

_ I took tea with Dorothea today. If Hubert knew I’d cancelled a meeting with the ambassador from Morfis to do something so self-indulgent he’d have a fit, but I suppose I’m allowed secrets as much as he is. I worry about her. I’ve never been the best at expressing emotion, but being there for her is the least I could do for dragging her into this war in the first place. She’s always been so warm and open, but these days it seems like she’s closing in on herself. It breaks my heart. I hope that when this war ends, we’ll be able to make a world where she can be that girl I knew from the academy again. A selfish thought, perhaps, but I suppose I am allowed those as well. _

_ I finally called the search off today. Petra returns to Brigid next week. I feel guilty for keeping her from her home for so long with nothing to show for it, even if she assures me otherwise. I was hoping that ending this would finally bring some closure, but I think, deep down, I know that this is not an ending. This does not end until we make a world where all humanity is finally freed from its chains. A world worth the sacrifces we’ve made. _

_ For everyone we’ve lost. For her. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting into the swing of the journal > letters > journal structure now. Hopefully I should have the next chapter ready soon!


	5. Garland Moon, 1183

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Doropetra week! It's a bit of a happy accident that this chapter is dropping now, I've had it planned for a little while.

_ Day 2 of the Garland Moon, 1183 _

_ My dearest Petra, _

_ I’m so sorry I haven’t written to you before now, I swear Edie has had me running around half of Adrestia these last few months. It feels like being back on tour again, although that normally had considerably more singing, and considerably less fighting. Well, unless Manuela started a bar fight. Again. _

_ Speaking of Edie, I think she misses you. Whenever I manage to drag her away from the war room for a tea break she’s practically overflowing with praise for you. I miss you too, of course. I know that you’ve got important work to do and I know I’m being selfish, but I do. I feel like I can be myself around you, like we can pretend that the world isn’t on fire, like there’s no pressure on us and we have all the time in the world. Sorry, I’m rambling. Ignore me! _

_ I’m heading to the Kingdom border tomorrow to help Ashe with some bandit trouble he's been having, and Edie’s insisted I take Ingrid with me. I’m dreading it. I love her, but she’s… Well, she’s Ingrid. She’s a lot. Just, all of the time. Also, lately she’s started switching from her usual blunt intensity to being an awkward mess at the drop of a hat. I really don’t understand her. _

_ Anyway, enough about me. How is Brigid? It must feel good to be back home, I know how much you missed it. What’s the weather like right now? I want the full picture, Petra! _

_ Come back soon! _

_ Dorothea _

_ ♥ _

_ P.S. I ran in to Felix just as I was on my way to send this letter, so I asked him if he had any words he wanted me to pass on to you. He just said ‘try not to die’. Honestly, Petra, I don’t know how you put up with him. Annette is right, he’s a villain. _

-

_ Day 29 of the Garland Moon, 1183 _

_ Dear Dorothea, _

_ You are not needing my apologies! I have many, what is the saying, ‘foods on my plate’ right now too. My Grandfather is still having strength, but he is needing my help with more frequency now, and I have been doing much travelling. Maybe, when the war has completion you can be bringing your tour to Brigid? I would be liking that greatly! Do not be bringing the bar fights though, I am thinking that would not be so good for the diplomatic relations. _

_ Lady Edelgard once asked me to be showing her my power, so it brings me joy hearing that she is having respect for my efforts! Once again, you are not needing my apologies. These are times of much strangeness, and I am missing you too. Know that I am working with much hardness to ensure that I can be returning soon! _

_ Please be saying hello to Ashe for me! He has been writing me letters about the border, and I think he will be appreciating company. You have not had many chances to speak with him, have you not? He is a good friend, I am thinking you would be liking him! I am not knowing Ingrid as well as you are, so I have no understanding of her either. I have always been having the feeling she does not have the liking of me, though. Why are you dropping your hat? _

_ Being back after so long is giving me strangeness, but happiness too. Brigid always will be being my home, but I have many kind memories of my time being in Fódlan, and I know I will need to be returning, so I am being between two places. Is that having sense? _

_ One thing that I am sure in is that I am not missing the food of Fódlan. When I first arrived I had the belief that you must be having a fear of flavour! I have been asking for the dishes with the most spices since I arrived, the staff of the palace are finding it most amusing. _

_ It is the season of rain in Brigid, but the air is still having much warmth. I am finding enjoyment in standing in the rain in the mornings, it gives me calmness. I have little skill in painting, but am I correct in thinking that this is an expression? If so, words are not having enough value to be telling you the true beauty of my home, but I am having hope that you will one day be seeing it with your own eyes. _

_ That is a saying that Felix is giving me every time we are starting a battle! I am thinking it is his way of saying ‘good luck’. Felix is liking to think of himself as a wolf with a sword, but I am seeing him as a bear with a shield. He is being a guardian, not a hunter. To know the entirety of his character, it is not his words that must be having your attention, but his actions in battle. He is fighting to protect his friends, and for that he has my respect. _

_ Although, I am having agreement that he is also a small amount of a jerk. _

_ May the spirits guide you, _

_ Petra _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like Petra said, we are living in times of much strangeness. Stay safe, wash your hands and tell the people you love that you love them.


	6. Lone Moon, 1183

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard writes about someone in this chapter who was mentioned in the game, but never given a name. It wouldn't really make sense for her to write a full explanation of who they are, but I'll put some info in the notes at the bottom to flesh them out a bit (although context clues should hopefully be enough to give you a vague idea).
> 
> CW: Edelgard's awful past.

_ Day 14 of the Lone Moon, 1183 _

_ The situation in the Alliance is worsening by the day. Duke Riegan died a week ago, and even though power should have shifted to Claude without issue, there’s enough dissent in the ranks of the nobles over his provenance that the knives are now fully out. Their wanton lust for power is sickening. I wonder if that’s how they perceive me?  _

_ Either way, Lysithea has somehow been caught up in the whole affair, and it’s getting too dangerous. I received a letter from her this morning containing a rather graphic account of precisely how she melted an assassin who attempted to slit her throat in the middle of the night (I think she’s been talking to Hubert too much, there was a concerning amount of detail), and although I know she can handle herself, I don’t want to lose her. I’ve realised that over all of our years of working together, she’s become like a sister to me. Just like family, we are bound by blood, tainted and cursed though it may be. Lysithea knows the world we are trying to tear down like no one else does, and her unwavering courage in the face of the odds gives me the conviction I need to see this through. She would fight until the last, but I can’t lose any more family. Nothing is worth that. _

_ I am making arrangements for her to be reassigned to Garreg Mach. It is frustrating that our efforts in the Alliance have not born fruit, but it’s a lost cause now. She won’t be happy about leaving things unfinished, so I’ve taken a leaf out of (rather fittingly) Claude’s book and planned a little scheme of my own to help ease both her transition and my own mind. Leonie has just finished her campaign against the insurrection in the South East, and I’ve asked her if she would consider Garreg Mach as her next posting, to help shore up the centre of our defensive line. Now, while Lysithea is a woman of many talents, subtlety is most certainly not one of them, and any mentions of Leonie in her letters to me—and there are more than a few—are borderline reverential. She’s far too proud and stubborn to accept a bodyguard under normal circumstances, but if said bodyguard just happened to be Leonie… Well, it isn’t truly manipulation if you’re just trying to help out a friend in a mutually beneficial way, is it? _

_ Linhardt will definitely be happy at least, he assures me that having Lysithea close by will accelerate his research by quite a bit. If we are truly going to undo all of the damage that Crests have wrought upon this world, understanding their nature is paramount. I also have a sneaking suspicion that he will enjoy the excuse of going to Garreg Mach to visit its quiet caretaker, too. Dorothea isn’t the only one who pays attention to people, after all. Regardless, I try to stay away from his research as much as possible. I know that he would not stoop to their level but I have spent far too much time in laboratories to ever be comfortable in them. _

_ I saw those laboratories again in my dreams last night. It was Alexander this time. Reliving any of them hurts, but I think that his is the most difficult. He was always so fiercely protective of us. I still remember him breaking that guard’s nose the first time they tried to take me away. His last words to me were, “It is always darkest just before dawn”. I’ve never been one for faith, but with all that’s going on now, perhaps this is the time I should learn how to have it. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've probably guessed, but this is going to be a sad one.
> 
> Alexander von Hresvelg was the second eldest of the Hresvelg children, and one of three to share the same birth mother (the other two being his younger sisters, Edelgard and Adeline). Being physically strong, exceptionally smart and posessing a Crest, he was originally intended to be the recipient of the Crest of Flames, and as such was one of the last of the children to undergo experimentation. Alexander was the 10th and final child to die, passing away in his sister's arms after giving her his final words. He was 15.


	7. Blue Sea Moon, 1184

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a little longer than I intended because I've been playing an ungodly amount of 3H recently. I started developing this series before I'd played the DLC, so I don't think I'll be able to work any of the Ashen Wolves in, but I hope you all know that I would 100% die for Hapi.
> 
> Also, the goblin in charge of my headcanon booted the door in and handed me an idea for this chapter that I might actually flesh out into a full story, if I get around to it. This chapter is set immediately after the events of that. Hopefully it should be fairly obvious what's happened!
> 
> Spoilers for Ferdinand and Mercedes' A support.

_Day 11 of the Blue Sea Moon, 1184_

_Dear Hubert,_

_The remainder of the trip back to Enbarr was thankfully uneventful. I have just returned to my chambers to write this letter, indeed, I have not even had the time to remove my travelling cloak! I promised that I would write to you immediately upon my return, and a true noble never goes back on his word. I am sending this directly to Garreg Mach, so please, do respond as soon as you are able._

_I must admit, I had my reservations about approaching you for such an… unusual request, but I know now that you were the perfect man for the job! Mercedes will surely be pleased with these documents, and I have no doubt she can use these to help secure a future away from the clutches of that scoundrel of an adoptive father she has found herself burdened with. For that, and for so many other things, I must thank you._

_It would appear that, as well as my thanks, I must also offer you my apologies. I fear I have gravely misjudged you for some time now. I had thought you heartless, but now I understand that you are merely rational. You have quite the brilliant mind, and that calm analysis was exactly what we needed to accomplish our task! I dare say, with your keen eye and my noble spirit, we make quite the team. I eagerly await the next opportunity for us to combine our talents!_

_Enbarr seems rather empty without your presence. Please give my regards to Lysithea, Leonie and Marianne, but do return soon. I shall have fresh coffee ready for you!_

_Your sentimental fool,_

_Ferdinand von Aegir_

-

_Day 15 of the Blue Sea Moon, 1184_

_Dear Ferdinand,_

_I arrived without incident last night, and your letter arrived this morning. You are possibly the most predictable man I have ever met, although in this case, I admit I am grateful for it._

_I never thought I’d see the day when Ferdinand von Aegir would come to my door requesting assistance with espionage, of all things. I still find the idea somewhat amusing. Nevertheless, I am glad that you did. Working side by side in order to help out a friend, just like in the Academy. It was almost nostalgic. Perhaps I have been spending too much time with you._

_You told me once to put my compliments for you in writing (I believe you said that hearing them in person was akin to, what was it, ‘a snake singing an aria’?), so I feel it is only fair of me to do so here. Your deeds in Fhirdiad proved, as if further proof were needed, precisely why you are so important to the Empire. Your compassion and determination have ensured that we can secure the support of a valuable ally in the battles to come, and your loyalty can only solidify the bonds between the Strike Force. Maybe more than any of that, however, you have proved once again how valuable you are to me, as well. The right and left hands of the Emperor, working as one. I, too, find myself relishing our next shared challenge._

_I will be sure to pass along your regards, and I know they will be well received. Security preparations for the Millenium Festival are now underway, thanks to Leonie’s reassignment. I know you probably think it unreasonable to begin the process this early, but I believe you understand that I am never truly happy until every possible scenario is accounted for. Lysithea, you will be pleased to hear, also thinks I am being ‘completely ridiculous’. Her words, not mine. She reminds me of you, actually. You both possess the same relentless drive and unbreakable spirit. You are also both hard-headed and, at times, completely impossible. I doubt I would change either of you._

_Your musical serpent,_

_Hubert von Vestra_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ah, Hubert. Two intrepid nobles working together for the benefit of a fair maiden. It is like something from a wonderful story!"  
> "Hmph. How foolish, I suppose this is the part where we kiss?"  
> "W-what? No, of course not! Don't be absurd!"  
> "..."  
> "..."  
> "..."  
> "...unless?"


	8. Ethereal Moon, 1184

_ Day 31 of the Ethereal Moon, 1184 _

_ I dreamt of that disembodied voice again last night. It’s strange, so often am I terrified of the things which await me once sleep finally digs its claws into my subconscious, but somehow I know this is different. It’s difficult to explain, but the dream is… ‘getting stronger’ seems like a ridiculous descriptor to give something like this, but I can’t find any other words that make sense to me. With each iteration, subtle things change. The shapes in the void slide into focus just a little more, the voice grows ever so subtly louder, and this time I even heard the sound of my own footsteps as I searched for its source. I know that it is foolish to ascribe such value to the fantasies of a resting mind, but it is certainly preferable to the usual parade of ghosts and regret. Or, perhaps my enemies are correct after all, and I am simply losing my mind as the war drags on. _

_ Caspar finally delivered his report today. Well, he claims it’s all his work, but I haven’t had regular correspondence with Ashe for over four years to not recognise his handwriting when I see it. Sometimes, I feel like we’re still at school, but somehow I’m now the teacher. It’s a rather bittersweet line of thought. Anyway, regardless of Caspar’s reluctance to participate in anything which doesn’t involve food or punching, the border is secure for the time being, and the raids have ceased. I would say I’m surprised at how well they work together, but then again I think I’d be describing half of the Strike Force. Caspar could start a fight in a graveyard, but I know he means well, and Ashe shares that wide-eyed enthusiasm for change. I am also in possession of working eyes, so even I haven’t failed to miss the way Ashe looks at him when he thinks no-one is watching. _

_ Speaking of the painfully obvious, Hubert is still dancing around explaining exactly what happened during the Blue Sea Moon with all the grace of a rampaging wolverine. I should find it concerning that my spymaster completely falls to pieces whenever the Prime Minister so much as smiles at him, but it’s hard to be truly vexed when he’s perhaps happier than I’ve ever seen him. That they are trying and failing spectacularly at being discrete is almost endearing. _

_ Ladislava, or should I say, General Desrosiers, is settling in tremendously to her new role. There has been a sadly predictable amount of outcry at the promotion of a commoner to such a privileged position, but the world is changing, whether the old guard like it or not. I would rather have a commoner who knows what they fight for and loves what they know than that which they call a noble and is nothing else. I feel confident that she will be well prepared for this time next year, when the main offensive against the Alliance begins in earnest. _

_ It’s hard to believe that it’s really been five years since the Strike Force were last together. I’ve missed them all in more ways than I can name. To think that we will have our reunion without our dear teacher, however, is almost more than I can bear. The ways that I miss her… I don’t think all of the words I possess could ever begin to describe them. I hope she would be proud of us. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Dear diary, my Strike Force appears to consist almost entirely of horny idiots."
> 
> CF wasn't the first route I played, so I went into it hoping to see them flesh out Ladislava's character a little but apparently they didn't think anyone would be interested in the *badass lady who rides a dragon*. I figured I'd use what little we get told to fill in the gaps a little. I might write more about her in another piece sometime, I find her pretty interesting. Since Dorothea is the only commoner in the Black Eagles and has a French surname (Arnault is a French form of an old Saxon name which means 'Eagle Power', because Dorothea is nothing if not extra), I decided to do the same with Ladislava. Desrosiers means 'of the rose bush', which I think fits with her nickname of the 'Scarlet Warrior', and also my headcanon that she helps tend the palace gardens as a show of loyalty. Also, in some routes she dies in a chapter called The Rose-Coloured River... but that's less happy.
> 
> If Edelgard's remarks about promoting commoners over nobles sound familiar, congratulations, you're as much of a nerd as I am. She's actually paraphrasing a famous quote by Oliver Cromwell. Cromwell was a divise and controversial revolutionary figure in British history, most known now for his advocacy of meritocracy and his role in starting the Civil War. Does this sound familiar? Depending on your point of view, he was either a champion of the weak or a near-genocidal monster. I'm part Irish, so I definitely fall into one camp more than the other, but that's a whole different discussion. I decided to put it in here partly as a fun Easter egg for other history geeks, and partly because I have a GCSE in history and I am not afraid to use it.


	9. Wyvern Moon, 1185

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little later than intended because I was supposed to do the first draft last weekend, but ended up watching all five seasons of She-Ra and my thoughts were too full of T H E M. Hopefully this being the longest chapter yet makes up for it! I hope the maintenance window doesn't swallow this whole.
> 
> Also, I've got an apology to make. Last time I wrote a letter as Petra, someone commented saying Petra can actually write perfectly, just not speak pefectly. I disagreed, but I've since hit the timeskip on a BL run and about two months after it, sure enough, Petra says she can write perfectly well. Whoops. Sorry about that. Still, when life gives you mistakes, make them into plot points!

_ Day 3 of the Wyvern Moon, 1185 _

_ My dearest Petra, _

_ Thank you so much for the jewelry box, it’s gorgeous! You sure know how to spoil a girl. I can’t imagine there are many people out there getting a hand-carved birthday present from an actual princess. I hope it didn’t take you too long, I’d hate to think you’re wasting your precious time on little old me. The letter was flawless, too! I swear you can do anything you put your mind to. _

_ Edie has somehow managed to rope me into helping with the security preparations for the Millenium Festival, which is just a fancy way of saying that she’s got us out in the field, hunting down bandits. I hate it. There are a lot of awful people trying to profit from the chaos of war, but there are just as many desperate souls who don’t think they have any other options left to them. I don’t know who I saw today. Some of them were younger than me. If it weren’t for Manuela finding me all those years ago, I could have been one of them. Still, if it keeps our friends safe, I suppose it’s worth it, right? I hope it is. _

_ I’m sorry for being such a misery guts, things genuinely aren’t that bad here. Garreg Mach isn’t the same as it was five years ago, but it still feels like home. Do you remember the time we hid Ferdie’s things when he went out on one of his afternoon rides, and then hid in the bushes so we could watch him searching for them? I suppose I should feel bad about that, but I guess we did help him find everything in the end. I think about the two of us giggling in a hedgerow every time I pass the stables, and it always makes me smile. _

_ Speaking of dear Ferdie, he’s been buzzing around here for a week now, helping out with security. You might want to be sitting down for this next part, but I think he’s actually grown up a bit. He’s stopped yelling his own name so much anyway, so I’m rather thankful for that. I can’t say that his wits have sharpened much though, he thinks that no-one knows about him and Hubie, which is quite frankly adorable. You should see them together, Petra, they’re more saccharine than one of Lysie’s cakes (saccharine sort of means sweet, if you didn’t know that word!). Hubie does love his whole ‘I am the darkness’ act, but there’s a heart lurking under that scowling exterior that’s softer than most. I’m happy for them, it’s good to see them finally get their act together. _

_ Lysie could certainly learn from their example, I swear she spends half her time drooling over Leonie (whilst completely refusing to admit it), and the rest of it absolutely furious at everyone and everything else. No wonder she’s always exhausted, I get tired just watching her. I’m glad she’s on our side though, partially because she can actually be kind and supportive when she’s not on the warpath and partially because I’m pretty sure she’s one of the most terrifying people I’ve ever met (you are NOT going to tell her I said that). _

_ I spend most of my time hanging out with Mari these days, which is something I never thought I’d say. She’s a sweetheart, but she was always so… well, you know how she was. She’s still quiet—and I’m still certain that she’d rather be around horses or pegasi than people—but she’s so different now. She’s confident and self-assured, and quite frankly I envy her. With all the chaos going on, she’s a welcome source of calm. The only problem is that if you hang around her for long enough, Lin is bound to show up and ask something bizarre in the name of ‘Crest research’. I honestly don’t know if he’s gotten weirder over these last few years or if he’s just terrible at flirting. Knowing Lin, it’s probably both. _

_ Sorry about just dumping all of that on you, but you need to be caught up on the gossip, Petra! I can’t believe it’s been over two years since we last sat down for tea together. I miss that so much. I miss the gossip, I miss you attempting to teach me Brigidian and laughing at how badly I butcher it, I miss… Well, you, Petra. I hope Edie doesn’t need you for anything when you get here for the Festival, because I might just steal you away so I can have you to myself for a while. Seriously, though, I can’t wait for you to be close enough for me to pester you on a regular basis. You’re going to get so tired of me! _

_ May the spirits guide you, _

_ Dorothea _

_ ♥ _

-

_ Day 16 of the Wyvern Moon, 1185 _

_ Dear Dorothea, _

_ I am glad that you like it! My time might be precious, but that just gives me all the more reason to spend it on you. It is the least I can do after everything you have done for me! You have always made me feel welcome, and have always tried your hardest to make sure I am happy. You are special, I hope you know that. Thank you for the compliment, it is very kind, although I could not have learned the language so quickly without you teaching me. That is something else I should be thanking you for! _

_ It is worth it. The world we want is worth fighting for, I know it. We have a chance to make sure that the world no longer forces people to lose their hearts, and I intend to seize it. I feel useless sitting here in Brigid while you are out fighting, I wish for nothing more than to be by your side again. Have I ever told you about how the seasons work in Brigid? I do not think I have. Our seasons are named after their guardian spirit, and people born in those seasons have the protection of that spirit. We are both under the protection of the Flame Spirit, and I pray to them every night, lending them my power so they can use it to help protect you. It is not much, but it helps ease my fears. _

_ I remember that day! You had so many leaves in your hair when we left the bush! After we helped Ferdinand, we went back to your room so I could help you remove them. That was the first time I braided your hair in my family’s style. It is one of my fondest memories. _

_ I am not surprised! I think you are a little harsh with Ferdinand, he can be thick-headed (is that the correct use of the phrase? I think it is, but it looks strange written down) but he is always trying to improve himself and has a kind heart. I am glad to hear that he has stopped shouting his name, though. That was getting rather tiring. I am also happy to hear about him and Hubert! Hubert spends so much time working for Lady Edelgard, it is nice for him to have something for himself for once. Ferdinand and Hubert are opposites in many ways, although we have a saying in Brigid that (I think) translates to ‘true peace is found when fire meets water’. They deserve their peace. Also, thank you for the word, I will add it to my dictionary! _

_ I find Lysithea confusing. She is always moving, but always looks like she needs rest. She speaks so quickly and demands understanding immediately, but her words are complicated and make my head hurt. Everything she does is urgent, and it sets my nerves on fire. It is like watching prey that knows it is being hunted, it makes me uneasy. I am confused though, I have hunted with Leonie many times and I know she is very observant. Has she not noticed the drooling? I think it is rather unhygienic too. It seems like a bad habit. I would find it hard to be scared of someone who is unable to control their saliva. _

_ Marianne taught me how to tend to pegasi when she joined the Black Eagles, I like her too. She is patient and kind, and I admire her compassion for animals. I offered to teach her wyvern handling, but she said it reminded her of ‘something she would rather not think about’ and turned it down. There are things in her past that she is not telling us, I think, but I trust her. I am happy to hear she is finding her peace, too. I am surprised you are spending so much time with her, we both know how terrified of horses you are! I used to have to do all the work when we were on stable duty together. You still owe me for that! Linhardt is someone else I find confusing, although I think he does that on purpose. He is strange, but I like him. I look forward to trying to figure him out too, you know that I like a challenge! _

_ I miss you too. It is wonderful to be back in Brigid, and I know that I will miss it when I return, but I know where I am needed now and it is not here. When I get back, I promise you can have as much of my time as you want! I want all of the gossip, I want all of the language lessons, and I want all of the happiness that being around you brings me. I shall be returning at the end of the next moon, and it cannot come soon enough. Watch the skies for me. _

_ May the spirits guide you, _

_ Petra _

_ ♥ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a few more ideas for these two for this series, so this hopefully won't be the last you hear of them. Petra is my favourite 3H character after all. Also, if you haven't guessed from this, the fact that Dorothea and Marianne didn't get a support chain is something I consider an actual crime.
> 
> Just one chapter left now! Any guesses as to what it is?
> 
> Stay safe, everyone.


	10. Ethereal Moon, 1185

She’s running. The sound of her heavy footfalls bounces off of the invisible floor, filling the void with a steady rhythm, a heartbeat in the darkness. As she runs, the void changes, swirls and solidifies. Shapes coalesce from the wispy smoke of emptiness, and her feet transition to running on stone. The heartbeat continues.

Apart from her, everything else is still. She sprints past an arrow suspended mid-flight, through a cloud of glass shards from a shattered window and between two soldiers snarling at each other from opposite sides of the cobbled street.

She knows this place. She knows this moment.

The voice sounds again. The words are indistinct, but her heart tells her she knows it, too.

The front gate is a mess of twisted metal and broken granite, she continues through it and into the marketplace where frozen figures flick by her peripheral vision, her eyes fixed upon the inner gate, standing open at the top of the stairs.

She knows this place. She dreads this moment.

The heartbeat continues.

Fire in the entrance hall is caught in its moment of triumph, licking greedily up a tapestry. Blood stains most of the staircase. Another set of doors, torn from their hinges. Another set, one still hanging on valiantly, its partner smouldering on the floor. The reception hall passes in a blur of smashed furniture. The voice is multiplying, the sources out of time and discordant. The final set of doors stand wide open in invitation.

The heartbeat is louder.

Her footsteps slow as she reaches the bridge, and a familiar feeling settles in her chest. On the other side of the bridge, The Immaculate One stands on her hind legs, one massive arm poised to smash down a tower onto the green-haired figure beneath her.

She knows this moment. She has lived it a thousand times.

Observing this, staring upwards from the foot of the cathedral with their back turned to her, is another figure. Their hair glows an ethereal green, and it dances in an unseen breeze.

They are different. She doesn’t know who they are. They shouldn’t be here.

Cautiously, she starts to cross the bridge. The voices surround her, whispering and shouting the same words. Two words. She knows what they ask. They grow louder the further she goes, and by the time she reaches the other side it’s almost unbearable.

The figure turns to face her.

They are both Byleth and not Byleth, the cheekbones too high, the ears too pointed, hair and eyes so green it is almost blinding. They take a step forward and open their mouth, and the voices cease in an instant and are channelled directly through them as they speak those two words.

“Find me.”

-

Edelgard bolts upright with a gasp, cold air crashing into her lungs like a tidal wave. She pants, wild eyed, for several long seconds, fingers clenched around the silk of her bedsheets. When her breathing finally slows, she sets the sheets carefully aside, and crosses to the writing desk on the other side of her room, pulling her journal towards her. Settling down in the chair, she opens a fresh page and leans over it, quill in hand.

_ Day 31 of the Ethereal Moon, 1185 _

The Millenium Festival. Her hand pauses over the page as she replays the dream in her mind. Sighing, she sets down the quill and turns to the window. The sky is a deep royal blue, caught in the no-man’s land between late night and early morning. The rest of the Strike Force will be at the monastery in a few hours. The dream can wait. Having to retell it would be akin to poking at an old wound that hasn’t healed properly. Edelgard should have known that she would come to haunt her dreams, too.

Her shoulders crunch as she rolls them, stretching cat-like as she stands from the chair and strides to the wardrobe. Edelgard isn’t who she needs right now. She needs the Emperor. The transformation is a silent vigil, with Hubert off doing… Hubert things. She debates calling Dorothea in to get her to help, but immediately dismisses it. Dorothea has thrown herself into battle so often over the last few weeks that the thought of asking her for something as trivial as this floods Edelgard with a wave of guilt and shame.

The mask of the Flame Emperor was more than just porcelain and paint, and although that has long since been resigned to a dusty box at the back of the armoury in Enbarr, the true nature of that mask remains within her. Cold, steadfast and unfeeling. The power to burn the very gods themselves, if Thales was to be believed. She shudders involuntarily at the thought of his voice, slimy and slick, a bead of poison dripping down the blade of a knife held to Fódlan’s throat. When she finally secures the crown on her head and steps back to take herself in fully in the mirror, she’s staring into the cold lilac eyes of a weapon. Part of her, the part with brown hair and eyes still capable of tears, wants to smash the image into pieces, wants to yell and scream and refuse the path that she’s been forced to tread. The Emperor tamps down the feeling, squashing it under her will. She has to be the one who does this, because she will not allow anyone else to become as corrupted and bloodied as she has become. She will be the only monster they need to make. The fingers of her clenched fists dig into her palms, and she relaxes them, taking a steadying breath out. With one last glance out the window into the inky blue sky, she retrieves her gauntlets from a table and leaves the room, sliding them over her scarred hands.

The monastery is still and silent as she makes her way through the former academy. It still feels strange being back after all these years, like walking through a memory of a former life. She pushes open a set of doors, and for a fleeting second sees them as they were in the dream, charred and smouldering on the floor. Five years. It feels like both too much and not enough time. For one fleeting, chaotic year, this had been her home. A whirlwind of positive and negative emotions, all with one woman at the centre. Byleth’s presence is everywhere throughout the monastery as the Emperor strides through it, fishing at the pond, eating with her students in the dining hall, smiling as they pass in corridors... She had sworn long ago that her heart was too hardened to break, but it constricts painfully in her chest now, and she takes another steadying breath.

She’s not sure what brings her to the Goddess Tower, but before she’s fully aware of her movements she finds herself staring up at the crumbling parapets. The memory of meeting the Professor here five years ago burns bright in her mind, erasing everything else. There was so much that she had wanted to say, back then. There’s always so much left unspoken. She’s learned that lesson too many times. The door creaks as it opens, complaining loudly about its disuse, and the Emperor begins her solitary climb of the cold stone steps.

Although the Goddess Tower had managed to avoid the brunt of the damage during Rhea’s rampage, time has not been kind to it. The flagstones are cracked and uneven underneath her feet, and the whole tower has a mournful sort of aura to it, more a mausoleum than anything else. She stares out over the broken crenellations, and takes in Garreg Mach laid out before her. A soft orange glow threatens the very edge of the sky, and although the sun isn’t yet visible, it is enough to illuminate the silhouette of her old academy. Marianne has, as Ferdinand has enthused about in his letters, done an excellent job with restoring the monastery, but it still feels like the spark is missing from the place. Perhaps its caretaker’s melancholy has seeped into the building itself, the Emperor muses. She blinks, and green eyes and a small smile flash in front of her, as if imprinted on the insides of her eyelids. Garreg Mach, it would seem, misses her as much as she does. Once again, she attempts to crush the feeling down, refusing to let her weakness take hold of her.

The sound of footsteps echoing up the staircase snaps her out of her reverie, and she schools her features back into an icy stare, stepping as easily into the role as if she were walking onto the Mittlefrank stage.

“Who’s there? Show yourself.”

She turns, and finds herself staring into a pair of green eyes.

“Hello, Edelgard.” Byleth’s voice is soft and quiet as she takes a few steps towards her, the half-light casting her features into shadow.

Her heart skips. The mask cracks.

“I… You... My teacher…” The Emperor swallows thickly, approaching Byleth with one hand raised as if to check for illusions. Her hand meets Byleth’s cheek, and the Professor leans into the touch almost imperceptibly. “You were… We all thought you were dead. How… Why now?”

Byleth smiles, and Edelgard feels her cheek shift beneath her palm.

“I made a promise.”

The mask shatters. Something between a laugh and a sob spills out of Edelgard and she collapses forwards, wrapping her arms around the Professor and burying her face into her neck.

She’s solid.

She’s real.

She’s  _ here _ .

Behind them, over the parapets of the Goddess Tower and on the horizon, dawn breaks over Fódlan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! Thank you so much for indulging me in this weird slice of life/worldbuilding/whatever story. I've never written an epistolary before, and let me tell you, they're HARD.
> 
> This last chapter took way longer than I thought it would, so sorry about that. With the world the way it is at the moment, I haven't really been in the mood to write much. I have a bad habit of not finishing multi-chapter fics (in my previous life writing fics for Skies of Arcadia many moons ago, I NEVER finished one despite how hard I tried), so I really wanted to see this one through anyway.
> 
> I'm not done with this series yet, although I think the majority of it will be one-shots set within a shared timeline as opposed to any multi-chapter stuff (although I do have one of those in the works too). The first of those is roughly half done, so hopefully I'll be able to get that out soon. I've got a Twitter account set up now, so if you want to see any updates hit me up on @SkylineNorthern.
> 
> Once again, thanks for reading, and if you've been with this since the first chapter, I apologise for how long it took! Hope you're all doing OK during this weird time.


End file.
